


love at last sight: the kanera collection

by cassandor



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: 3 Sentence Fiction, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Conversations, Don’t copy to another site, F/M, First Kiss, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-26 14:30:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20391235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassandor/pseuds/cassandor
Summary: Collection of Kanera prompts! Surprisingly, no fix-it AUs... yet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> my enabler @dasakuryo requested: first time they kissed

Kanan’s still getting used to being called _love._

The Jedi Order discouraged attachments. Compassion for all beings was a key tenet of Jedi philosophy, but so was the ability to let them, and the fear of losing them, go. It was fear, the Padawans were told, that paved a quick and easy way to anger, hatred, and darkness. 

Kanan knows that fear all too well. It’s coloured red in his heart, the imprint left by traitorous blasterbolts.

In the age of the Empire, attachments are a liability. Another foothold for the darkness to grab onto, a sore bruise for interrogators to press. It’s why he’d abanonded his birth name, why his lightsaber lies cleaved in two, why the only connection to his identity is tucked away under his bunk. Anything else was too risky. His Master had paid too high a price for his life, for him to wield it so carelessly. 

But then came Hera. Like energy focused through a kyber crystal, through her Kanan remembered that running was not the true Jedi way, not when he could help. Master Bilaba died so he could live - and carry on the Jedi legacy of helping those who needed it most.

Hera agreed they wouldn’t take risky missions. Just routine transport missions with occasional smuggling. And theft. Okay, more than occasional smuggling

It doesn’t seem like much, but every time Kanan sees someone they’ve helped smile, he feels like it’s worth all in the galaxy.

And when he sees Hera smile, the woman who’d made that all happen for him - 

He does love her. Not in the way that victims fall in love with their rescuers, though Kanan feels no lack of appreciation for the woman who’d pulled him back from the brink, who’d taught him how to hope again. How to feel the Force once more. 

Kanan’s fallen in love with the galaxy’s best pilot, her whip-smart personality, her concern for others, her heart that has room for an old ship, a screeching rust bucket, and a broken soul. Hera is all those things and more. She’s Hera, and that’s why Kanan loves her.

* * *

Other than his quarters, the only other place Kanan can easily slip into a trancelike state is in the Ghost’s engine room. Alone with his thoughts and the inner workings of their home, Kanan doesn’t notice Hera’s prescence until she says his name. 

“Did I just sneak up on you?”

“Absolutely not,” Kanan says, swiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I was busy.” 

Hera crosses her arms, a smile unfurling on her lips. “I’ll let you think that. Are the front shields fixed?” 

“They are.” 

“Great,” she says, still watching him, “saves Chopper some time.” 

“My time’s worth less than Chopper’s?” he asks incredulously. 

Hera shrugs, arms swinging down to her sides. “If you ever gain the ability to transform into an Imperial droid, Kanan, let me know.” 

“I don’t know if I’d tell you, honestly, it’s kind of nice not to hear crashing sounds every five minutes.” 

“Kanan…”

“What! You know it’s true. I appreciate Chopper, I really do - don’t tell him I said that - but he’s got issues with subtlety.” 

“Can’t disagree there,” Hera says. Her focus is elsewhere, Kanan realizes. Another place, another time, or maybe another thought.

“What is it, Hera? Something on your mind?”

Hera’s gaze drops from somewhere over his shoulder - no, his cheek - to his eyes. “Something on your face, love. Here - ” 

* * *

Hera’s still getting used to saying _love._

It’s no slip of the tongue. She’s never addressed anyone else by that nickname. It’s a concious effort every single time. Affection comes hard to her, with one parent long gone and the other barely there. 

“It was Chopper who wore me down,” she tells Kanan at breakfast, eaten on the Ghost’s ramp while watching the sunrise. “People like you would keep asking me why I kept him around, and the only valid reason I could come up with, considering he was already outdated ten years ago, was that he was my friend. And that was the first time I’d said _friend_ out loud in years. So now I make a point of saying it. He’s my friend.”

“You’ve always seemed very friendly,” Kanan remarks lightheartedly, but the look in his eyes is dead serious. Even making friends is an act of defiance against the Empire’s reign of fear and hatred. 

“But being friendly and having friends is different, Kanan. You and Chopper are all the friends I have.”

“And you’re all I have, too,” Kanan says, turning away, leaving Hera with his face in profile and unsaid words on her tongue. Because that’s why she calls him love - a reminder of what he means to her. No matter how often they disagree or retreat into themselves, they always have each other. 

And yes, she loves him. In the darkness and in the light. With their knees bumping together as they sipped caf this morning, with her side pressing into his as they fire at stormtroopers. In moments like these when he’s ribbing Chopper. She should be mad on her droid’s behalf, but instead she’s distracted by the grease smear running down Kanan’s cheek, left behind when he’d swiped it to hide his surprise at her prescence. In moments where she realizes Kanan’s watching her as much as she watches him.

“What is it, Hera? Something on your mind?”

“Something on your face, love. Here - ”

* * *

Hera brushes the streak away with the side of her thumb, reaching up to cup the side of Kanan’s face. Close enough to see the green in his blue eyes, or perhaps it’s just her own reflection.

Kanan feels the warmth spilling from her palm, spreading across his jawline and shooting directly into his chest.

“Hera,” he murmurs, head tilted forward. She shushes him softly with a swipe of her thumb across the corner of his mouth, then steps closer into him, fitting into his shadow, as if they’re hiding from Imperials. And they are, in a way.

“If you’ve ever wanted to kiss me,” Hera says with all the boldness of the Syndulla clan, with all the softness of her breath against his cheek, “now would be a good time to do it.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @dasakuryo requested: Sabine finding out hera is pregnant, post the events of the finale.

It’s the only question on their lips, now. _What next, what next, what next? _

Every answer takes them forward by one, small, step. Food, fuel, rest. Re-establishing a government. Rebuilding the city. Reaching out to the Alliance, letting them know Lothal will be with them. What lies ahead for the Ghost crew is a vast mystery, but with every question, every answer, every small step, they move forward. 

Sabine’s always the first to ask. Zeb’s grown quiet without Ezra to tease and Kallus is still a stranger. _What next?_ Always to Hera, because Hera’s the captain, their leader, ever since the very beginning, and Sabine is grateful that hasn’t changed. Among all the chaos of a galaxy writhing in revolution, of a crew shattered by loss yet held together by new hope, at least Hera was always there.

She puts her hand on the seat behind Hera, not the copilot’s, because that’s always been Kanan’s seat, and later, Ezra’s. Hera motions for her to come forward, and with some hesitation, Sabine sinks into the copilot’s seat.

“So… what’s next?”

Sabine bites her lip, glancing at Hera, who’s staring out the viewport at Lothal’s horizon. There’s a wistfulness in her eyes, something that pulls deeply at Sabine. She ducks her head, scrubbing at the dark blue paint trapped under her fingernails, listening to the steady thunks and thumps and bursts of chatter as the rest of the crew offload supplies. 

She lifts her head up when she hears Hera’s sigh.

“Ryder’s got things here on Lothal under control, for the time being. The Empire seems uninterested in trying to reclaim the planet and Zeb… Zeb and Kallus want to join the rest of the Alliance on Yavin.” Hera glances at Sabine. “You can stay here on Lothal, or head to Yavin with the others. Or you can go back to your family on Mandalore, I’m sure they’ll want your help in fighting the Empire.” Hera clasps her hands over her stomach. “Whatever you want to do, we’ll be there for you. Even if you don’t come with us.”

“What are you going to do, Hera?”

Hera closes her eyes, just for a moment, and Sabine’s eyes drift down to Hera’s hands. She’s been meaning to ask. It’s only been a few days since she’d first suspected something, but the boys didn’t seem to have noticed, though Chopper seemed more protective of Hera than usual. Sabine didn’t even think that was possible. The droid wouldn’t tell her anything, though, and Sabine didn’t feel the need to press further. Hera would share when she was ready. 

Kanan was still a sensitive topic. Hera wouldn’t ever be upset with Sabine for bringing him up, not when those reminders of him were what helped them win back Lothal, but Sabine wouldn’t take the risk. Especially if… 

She realizes Hera’s eyes are on hers, now, and she’s been staring for far too long. Heat rises to Sabine’s cheeks, but the feeling’s quickly dispelled when Hera replies:

“I was thinking of staying on Lothal, at least, until… until the baby’s born. It’s safer.”

Sabine nods, a lump rising in her throat. The baby. _Hera’s baby! Hera’s having a baby! _

“I’ll stay with you,” she says, thinking about Ezra’s last words to her. _I’m counting on you._ To rebuild Lothal and protect it from the Empire’s grasp. Even if Ryder had a hold on things, even if the only tasks were supply missions too boring for a Mandalorian-slash-Spectre, at least for Ezra’s sake she should stay longer. At least for Hera’s sake, and for Kanan’s.

And the baby’s.

Hera smiles. Sabine shifts in her seat to face her.

“I won’t be staying on Lothal forever, Sabine. I’m going to Yavin with the others. The Alliance needs us. I don’t blame them for not helping us free Lothal. Their resources are short as it is. They need good pilots, and the Ghost will do more good there than here. And Kallus has been telling me the Alliance’s spy network suspects the Empire’s up to something big. Whatever it is, they’ll need us to help.”

“I understand,” Sabine says, pressing a hand to her chest. “I want to help, too. Ezra was counting on me to watch over Lothal, and I’ll do whatever is necessary to keep his faith in me. For now, that means staying with you two, here.” She smiles, and for the first time in weeks it feels natural on her face.

Hera reaches out and grasps Sabine’s hand, who squeezes hers in return.

“I’m glad you’ll be here with me. Kanan would appreciate it, too.”

Sabine’s smile widens into a grin. “Well, I have a feeling the kiddo’s going to be a handful, and a Mandalorian’s just as good of a teacher as a Jedi.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for Day 1 of Whumptober. Happy Rebels Day everyone ♥

Hera’s hands are trembling as she undoes the wrapping. Kanan’s mouth twitches, suppressing a wince as the fabric pulls at raw skin.

“Oh,” she murmurs at the sight. “Oh, _Kanan_.”

An angry red burn crosses the bridge of his nose, oddly accentuating one of the features Hera most liked about him. But her attention didn’t linger there for long. The wrapping falls away as she curls her hands around the sides of Kanan’s head, cupping his face up to her.

“That bad, huh.” Kanan mumbles, breath on the edge of a chuckle. Hera’s stomach turns at his glazed eyes, how they’re no longer fixed on her face but somewhere over her shoulder, how they’ve lost their deep hue, how they’ve been rendered unseeing. She swallows down a sob and focuses on how, despite all this, Kanan’s eyes are still bright and teasing. 

“You look fine,” she murmurs with all the haughty tone of a scolding mother, “we’ll be fine.” 

Kanan smiles at her, but the curve of his mouth is so wobby and unsure Hera doesn’t know what to do but lean over and kiss him, opening herself up to her own fears while taking on Kanan’s own. If his hands shake more than usual when they skim up her body, she pretends not to notice. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for Day 6 of Whumptober

Hera’s throat is still raw. Her vocal chords seem to rub against each other every time she speaks, as if Kanan’s name is grasping at her every word. 

She doesn’t say much because of it.

The flight back from the fuel depot is a adrenaline-charged nightmare. Hera could easily construe it all as being a dream, if it weren’t for the drying tears in Sabine’s eyes and the wide-eyed horror on Ezra’s face.

If she couldn’t still feel the heat of the flames ghosting over her body. If she couldn’t still feel Ezra’s grip as he dragged her away. As they took her away from Kanan.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @dasakuryo requested hurt/comfort after kanan arrives from malachor?

Hera laces her fingers with his. Kanan grips them tightly, holding on to the only stability he has in the darkness. 

Not literally. 

The Force, as he explained to the others, didn’t help him _see._ It guides him. It gives him a better sense of his surroundings, a more refined version of the mental picture most beings have they close their eyes. Surviving the duel on Malachor was a matter of adrenaline and years of fighting _as_ a tool of the Force. It flowed right through him and guided his hand, cutting through those who believe the Force is _their_ tool.

That was simple enough. But that was also merely the physical. 

The Force couldn’t do anything for his mental state. 

Kanan had done his best to keep himself together. The waves of anguish rolling off Ezra were palpable even to Hera. Ezra’s on the precipice of something, pushed there by his time with Maul and the holocron. Kanan didn’t want to do anything that might possibly push the boy farther into despair.

To be honest, Kanan is afraid for him. He tells Hera just as much.

“Ezra has us,” she tells him. “And we’ll always be there for him, even if we can’t use the Force like you two do.”

Kanan sighs. “You’re right. Not being alone makes all the difference.” He raises his free hand to rub at his jaw, prickled by the beginnings of stubble. “Still, he blames himself for what happened to me.”

“He just needs time.” 

Kanan leans back, resting his head against the wall of his bunk. If this was before, he would’ve turned to look at her. Instead, his mind’s eye recalls the familiar sight of Hera in the darkness, the green of her skin rendered a deep blue by the scant light in the Ghost. He focuses on what he can hear, smell, feel. He’s surrounded by the haze of Hera’s body heat, pulled together where their hands are joined. The feel of her grip is just as familiar as her breathing against his cheek.

It’s quiet on the Ghost, the rest of the crew running a simple supply mission. He senses that just being around them reopens their barely mended wounds, so he’d chosen not to join them. Hera stayed for Kanan’s sake. They haven’t had a chance to be alone since Malachor. Kanan grows increasingly grateful for her decision as the night stretches onwards.

“You okay?” Kanan feels Hera shift, moving away from the edge of the bunk and curling towards him.

“Yeah,” Kanan replies, running a thumb over the back of her hand. “I’ll give him time. I’ll… it gets worse when I’m around him. I’ll step away from the crew for a bit longer.” 

Hera sighs. “Whatever you think is best. Don’t go too far.”

“I won’t,” Kanan murmurs, shifting until he’s able to rest his head against Hera’s. “I’ll be right where you can find me.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @dasakuryo requested parenthood and/or grief

Ezra’s faint chanting reaches Hera in the corridor.

“_Chaos, yet harmony. __Death, yet the Force.”_

She rest a hand on her belly and thinks distantly of Kanan. Perhaps life and death were as tangled together as the Jedi believed. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @dasakuryo requested Hera seeing Kanan in Jacen

Jacen offers Hera a sheepish grin when she catches him red handed. One hand in his hair, and the ghost of Kanan in his smile, Jacen’s expression stuns her long enough for her son to slink away. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @cassleia requested (1+5): "The tired mumbles grew more agitated as the seconds ticked away, but even then she never fully woke."

Kanan stops trying and lets Hera continue to sleep, if only for the few minutes it takes for him to prepare a cup of decaf.

The smell is enough to wake her, and when Kanan returns she’s sitting up in bed, bleary-eyed but smiling.

“Don’t make a habit out of this,” he says, handing it to her. Hera just laughs.

“If it’s good, I just might.”


End file.
